


I Want to Make Myself a Gardener

by Plumcot



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky crying about plants, Gardens & Gardening, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-20
Updated: 2015-11-20
Packaged: 2018-05-02 14:34:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5251898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plumcot/pseuds/Plumcot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Bucky has a garden and everything is okay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Want to Make Myself a Gardener

Bucky woke up with his arms wrapped around Steve. He smiled and nuzzled into his neck, breathing him in, then settled back onto the mattress for a few precious minutes of cuddle time.

Then he remembered he had a job to do, and he sprang up out of the bed and pulled on a sweatjacket over his night clothes.

Steve turned over and blinked at Bucky, squinting in the morning light. “Garden?” He muttered.

“Yup.” Bucky grinned. He pressed a kiss to Steve’s forehead. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

Steve smiled. “Should I bring breakfast up there?”

“Sounds good!” Bucky called over his shoulder as he bounced out the door. “Later, Stevie!”

. . .

A few months ago, Bucky’s therapist had suggested he try gardening. He’d been dubious about it at first, but as it turned out Tony was thinking of starting up a roof garden on top of the tower anyway, and he figured he’d better strike while the iron was hot.

Tony, of course, had the roof renovated for drainage and offered some suggestions on raised bed construction, but the garden had really been for Bucky from the start. And as soon as Tony lost the flowers vs. vegetables argument…

_“I’m not putting time and effort into useless crops, Stark.”_

_“Useless? They’re pretty! You can’t eat paintings but we still keep making them, don’t we? Well I mean, technically you could eat a painting, but-”_

_“Vegetables are eye-catching_ and _edible, and that way you can have magazines run stories about how you’re sustainably feeding the Avengers.”_

_“…Fine.”_

…It was set in stone. The garden was now Bucky’s Garden. As long as Tony got to try some of the produce, and pretend like it was his garden to the press. 

Bucky had been doubtful about just how relaxing gardening could be, but so far it was a success. There was something Zen about building the raised beds nail by nail, pouring in the soil bag by bag. It was all just one step at a time. No deadline, nothing riding on his performance. He was doing it just for the sake of doing it, and that felt better than he could hope to explain. 

The last big thing he’d done with the garden was plant the seeds. He poked them in one by one, patted soil over them like tucking in a blanket. Since then he came up every day to water the beds and check for shoots poking up. Every morning brought new excitement; would they be showing? Would he get up to the roof and be greeted by rows of little green shoots? The first few days, he’d been a little disappointed when he saw nothing but flat soil. Despite knowing that they were never going to grow that fast, there was still some part of him that had hoped they’d be overachievers.

Today, he stepped out onto the roof expecting to see nothing growing. But when he got close enough to the first bed, a glint of green caught his eye. Dozens of them. Rows upon rows of little green sprouts.

Bucky knelt on the ground in front of the bed and, with wide eyes, found himself staring at a tiny, baby tomato plant. His entire heart lit up, with a kind of joy he couldn't begin to describe. He reached out with his right hand and stroked the sprout, marveling at how fragile it was. 

Here was a tiny, delicate life, and he had helped it grow. The first thing in a long time he had helped to create instead of destroy. He had nurtured and cared for this life, and now he was responsible for it, and he felt like he might not fuck it up. Something wet ran down his cheeks, and he realized he was crying.

Bucky heard a door creak behind him, and he turned around to see Steve walking across the rooftop with breakfast on a tray. As soon as Steve saw Bucky’s face, he put down the tray and rushed over to his side. “Bucky, are you okay? What’s wrong?”

Bucky smiled, wiping away the tears with his wrist. “I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m- I’m great, actually.” He laughed. Steve looked confused, so he pointed to the sprouts. “They’re growing. I helped ‘em grow, Steve!”

Steve looked at the beds for a second. Then a smile grew over his face. One of Bucky’s favorite smiles. The one that said _I am so proud of you._

“Wow.” He breathed. He settled himself on the ground beside Bucky and twined their fingers together, stroking Bucky’s hand with his thumb. 

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” Bucky dropped his head on Steve’s shoulder. “I still can’t believe…” He trailed off, but Steve caught him staring at his left hand and figured out the rest.

“I can.” Steve said firmly. “You’re not what they made you, Buck. You aren’t made to destroy.”

Bucky snorted. “But I’m made to garden?”

“If you want to be, yeah. You can make yourself anything you want.”

They sat together for a long few minutes, nestled up against each other, feeling the sun on their faces, looking at the sprouts poking up through the soil.

“I wanna make myself a gardener.” Bucky finally said.

Steve smiled. “Y’know what? I think that’s a swell thing to be.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have no excuse for this.


End file.
